


It's Like a Summer Shower

by kingofcamelot



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Buffy is Alex's dog, Established Relationship, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Nebulous well adjusted future, Which I Never Do, if you want something done right you have to do it yourself, no beta we die like men, so jot that down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24577501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingofcamelot/pseuds/kingofcamelot
Summary: Michael needs a hair cut in quarantine.Or: Sometimes it is easier to confess when the sun is setting.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 10
Kudos: 99





	It's Like a Summer Shower

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by seeing everyone cut their partner's hair in quarantine. This is my particular rendition.

“I honestly can’t believe you talked me into this.” Alex muttered. His usual painstaking precision was bordering on alarming at this point.

As the end of another curl fell, Michael loosened the makeshift cape they had fashioned out of the plastic that covered Alex’s deck furniture when it rained.

“I think a large portion of our lives together could be defined by that sentence. This last year at least.” Michael quickly replied full of humour.

Alex scoffed. 

“No, us unceremoniously moving you in here was one thing, but I make one wrong move and the Real Housewives of Roswell gut me for destroying their hot mechanic’s curls” Alex returned.

Michael smiled to himself. Alex was the kind of person who complimented you while simultaneously voicing a complaint. Michael loved him for it.

“Its just hair. It doesn’t matter.” Michael told him. Michael didn’t understand why Alex was putting so much care into this. Asking him for a haircut was a necessity because of current times, but Michael could practically feel Alex’s focus boring into the back of his skull. That’s who Alex was, everything done with accuracy and fine-tuned detail. Still, Michael swore he could feel his hands shaking just a little every time he snipped at a strand. Alex hands didn’t shake. Alex was the one who made sure of it. Michael’s thinking was interpreted when Alex spoke again.

“Who usually does this for you? I hope you don’t expect me to believe you haven’t gotten a haircut in the ten years I was gone.”

Sometimes Isobel, sometimes himself, one-time Maria. He doesn’t say that. Honesty is a finely tuned skill, but so is tact.

“Everywhere is closed! And besides isn’t is going to look especially weird when I saunter out into the middle of town looking for a haircut? No mask? No gloves? Me and all my superior alien biology just keeping me safe-”

Alex cut him off before he could finish. 

“I really don’t think a single citizen of this town would be surprised by you bucking the suggested health protocols.”

That was fair. Michael could technically play the part, follow all the human guidelines, that’s what he had done his whole life. But he wanted it to be Alex. He always wanted everything with Alex.

“Ok fine, maybe, but I want you to do it. I hate it when it gets past my ears. I feel like a dog.” Michael complained. He had flown past uncomfortable two weeks into this new normal and now his hair required addressing.

Buffy and Alex shared a look. For a canine, her ability to emote how particularly offended she was by that comment was rather impressive.

“Besides, I can promise to make it worth your while.” Michael spoke, deliberately shifting the conversation on to a favoured topic. He tilted his head to glance at Alex’s expression. Alex looked both amused and annoyed. He quickly snapped Michael’s head back in place. Michael supressed a smile and quickly continued his goading. 

“I know a good-looking guy who will really be in debt to you.” Michael whispered.

“Really? Kyle’s here? I didn’t think we got to double our bubble until next week.” Alex countered.

Smartass.

Michael pulled back ever so slightly to make sure his disapproving look was full registered by his boyfriend. Alex had a shit eating grin plastered on his face, the one only worn by those who knew their joke had landed perfectly. Not to long ago, that kind of remark would have brewed into a full-blown fight. Alex pushing buttons. Michael being upset Alex knew which buttons needed pushing. Not anymore. Kyle had evolved into a....God, Michael truly did hate to say it, a good friend. He was someone they both mutually trusted. Even if a small part of Michael would never forgive 17 year old Kyle for the way he had treated Alex in high school, he was grateful for him now. Michael was grateful for all of them. Liz, Maria, Rosa, Kyle. Ever since he had reconciled with Alex, he found himself focusing more and more on what he had to be grateful for. 

“Why does it bother you?” Michael worried about the renewal of his earlier thoughts. It was all the contemplating about how things had changed, how things had gotten better, that made him give voice to his inner thoughts. 

“I don’t want to mess it up.” Alex replied. Stoic and systematic, little bits of solider bleeding into his tone.

“I said its fine, it’s just hair.” Michael went to move his head once more, but Alex held him firmly in place. Michael wasn’t sure whether it was so he didn’t mess up Alex’s newfound technique or because Alex would prefer to respond to the back Michael’s head.

“Because its you.” Alex spoke softly. He paused for so long, Michael thought this is where his explanation ended.

“Because when I think of you, even when you’re not there, it’s what you look like”. Alex started. He hesitated again before continuing. “Sometimes I turn to you to tell you good news or just to be so irrationally pissed about something I know only you will understand, and you’re not there. But...but it’s what you look like in my head.” 

Michael didn’t say a word, he didn’t want to shatter this moment in Alex’s kitchen. Their kitchen. This particular incline of the light. 

Alex laughed to himself before he began again.

“When I picture you in my head.... you’re all wild curls and lightness on your feet. I see your shoulders, and the particular slant of your smile, the real one.” Alex stroked the base of his neck to impress his point. “And its.... comforting.” Alex confessed.

The small kitchen was frozen in this moment.

“You have that stupid cowboy hat and you're there... just...just as you are.” He trailed off again for a moment. 

This was something they were getting better at, these precious slivers of vulnerability. 

Alex cut the final strands between his fingers and concluded “I don’t know if that even makes any sense.” Alex placed the scissors back on on their kitchen table. He went to ruffle Michael’s hair, to give it some of its owner’s usually vitality. Without turning around, Michael reached back and seized Alex’s hand. Alex gazed at the back of Michael’s head as his boyfriend clutched desperately at his hand, never moving from his destinated position. Michael intertwined their fingers and Alex stood unmoving. Michael couldn’t turn and look at him right now. There were tears in his eyes and he had to let his heart settle back to its rightful place before he turned around.

Together they calmed. Their hands remained clasped together as the orange and the yellows of the setting sun cascaded across the forgotten curls scattering across the floor. 

Curls renewed and still intact, Michael looked all the more just like Alex’s Michael.

He had always been Alex’s Michael.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Mitski's Pink in the Night. And yes, I am fully aware that song has the lyric "I could stare at your back all day" which would have been clever and more fitting. Whatever, I do what I want. I'm on Tumblr www.kingofcamelot.com.


End file.
